


The Doctor Will See You Now

by klainewarblers



Series: Doctor Brewer [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 1x06 redo, Doctor AU, M/M, Patrick is a doctor, basically if David went to a doctor and not Ted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20083858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klainewarblers/pseuds/klainewarblers
Summary: What if, instead of visiting Ted for his panic attacks, David visited Elmdale Medical Centre to be seen by Dr Patrick Brewer?





	1. Chapter 1

“I think I’m having a heart attack!” David exclaimed to his sister, his hand pressed firmly against the pulse point on his neck, feeling the irregular beating beneath his fingertips.

“Oh God, you are overreacting!” Alexis, the younger sibling, shot back, continuing to lace her sneakers ready for her jog.

_Why is she not taking me seriously?! _David thought to himself. He stared at his sister with wild, panicked eyes. _I’m going to die of a heart attack! She is such a Little B! _

“Don’t die before I get back!”

After Alexis left with a slam of their shared motel room door, David groaned and sat down at the end of his bed. What do people even do when they’re having a heart attack? David reached for his phone and opened Google, searching for the nearest medical centre. There was a vets close by. Surely animals had heart attacks too? David continued strolling until he saw ‘Elmdale Medical Centre’.

There.

Making sure he had his keys and his phone, David rushed out of his motel room into the reception area to find Stevie. As always, Stevie was behind the desk. She too seemed to lack the empathy and urgency that David required but she agreed to drive him to Elmdale anyway.

David googled his symptoms during the drive which Stevie soon realised was a huge mistake. “Okay so you need to drive a little faster, please. Right now. An hour ago I thought I was having a heart attack but now it seems I’m having a pulmonary embolism which is much, much worse.”

Stevie rolled her eyes, but didn’t speed up the car. “Okay, yup. You look good though.”

“That’s just how I look.” David mumbled.

*

Elmdale Medical Centre was unlike any hospital David had ever been to. He was used to his private doctor’s surgeries in New York, where the staff walked around in crisp white uniforms, where the halls were clean and there were spacious waiting rooms with magazines, games consoles and TVs for the other rich people that went there. Instead, Elmdale Medical Centre had one tiny cramped waiting room with every single seat occupied with what seemed to be elderly people with very wet coughs.

“Great…so I’m going to die of the plague now too…” He groaned to Stevie, pulling his white tee over his mouth and sliding down into his chair.

Beside him, Stevie only smirked.

40 long, long minutes later, David’s name was _finally _called. Stevie opted to wait outside, wanting to get a few peaceful minutes away from David’s incessant whining _(“You would think they would take me much more seriously because my heart is literally about to explode”, “I wonder if I still have my lawyer’s number because if I die, I am totally going to sue this shithole.” “This room smells exactly like an old people’s home”_). Her remark was met with a glare from the ‘dying’ patient as he stomped off towards the nurse.

“If you just wait in here, Mr Rose. Your Doctor, Mr Brewer will be in shortly.” The nurse in the most hideous shade of yellow scrubs David had _ever_ seen, led him into a small doctor’s office. David grimaced at the thought of having to sit on the bed where his heart was probably going to give up on him.

Walking towards the hospital bed, David pulled an extra layer of the paper over the bed. Who knows who else had sat here before him and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to catch something else. After he was satisfied that the bed was well covered, David perched himself on top of it, his legs dangling off the edge.

What felt like an eternity later, the door opened again and in walked a doctor with a clipboard. “David Rose, 34, suspected heart attack?” The man looked up from his clipboard towards David who had his hands folded in his lap.

“Mhm, also pulmonary embolism but I don’t think that lady with the disgraceful perm behind the desk added those to my notes.”

The doctor chuckled. “Okay, David. My name is Dr Brewer, but you can call me Patrick.”

David finally looked up at his doctor. Huh. He looked too young to be a doctor. Doctors were meant to be old and wrinkly. They were meant to have ugly facial hair or big glasses with frames that were not suited to their face shape. This man was definitely not like any doctors that David had dealt with in the past. In fact, he was….kind of cute? For a straight, mid-ranged denim kind of man.

“So can you tell me what it is you’re experiencing so I can try to narrow down what’s really going on.” He said softly, moving to perch against his desk.

“I’ve just not really been sleeping.” David began. “And I think there’s just a lack of oxygen getting to my heart because I’m feeling very suffocated.” David slightly slipped his hand beneath his black cardigan to rest against his heart, feeling the unsteady thump.

“Mm…okay…” Patrick said thoughtfully, a slight smirk on his lips as he regarded the man sat on the hospital bed. He removed the stethoscope from around his neck, attached the ear tips into his ears and took a step towards David. “Can I..?” A gentle hand cupped David’s back and he motioned for David to lift up his shirt. When he did, Dr Brewer placed the diaphragm against his skin, making David squirm at the coldness of it. “Okay, deep breath in for me.”

David followed his doctor’s instructions and took a big shaky breath in. “Okay, well the good news is that I don’t think that you’re having a heart attack or a pulmonary embolism, David because what I think is happening here is that you’re having a panic attack.”

David looked at Dr Brewer with wide eyes. “Oh…oh no, those aren’t real.” He took his head quickly. “Those are just a PR spin for celebrity publicists. Trust me, I’ve known enough celebrities.”

“David, panic attacks are absolutely a real thing.” Dr Brewer said gently, pulling David’s shirt down to cover him and removing his stethoscope to put back around his neck. “Tell me, David. Have you had any experiences lately that have caused you any stress or anxiety?”

With a scoff, David rubbed his hands roughly against his thighs, then balled his hands into fists. All the while, Patrick’s eyes watched him carefully. “Well I went from living in my own spacious, clean New York apartment to a shitty motel room with my sister.”

“Wow! Okay..” Dr Brewer said with a small chuckle. “That could do it.”

“It’s not funny.” David folded his arms across his chest defensively. “I could be dying.”

“David…” The doctor sighed and moved a little closer to David, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not laughing at you. That would be wildly unprofessional. I understand why you thought you were having a heart attack. Heavy breathing, tight chest, irregular heartbeat. They’re somewhat similar symptoms. If you had a heart attack, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

David’s eyes went wide, but he felt his shoulders relax a bit. “Panic attacks are more common than you think. And no, they are definitely not a PR stunt. Panic attacks can manifest themselves in different ways and it can be very frightening. Yours just seems to be lasting a little longer, which is fine. We can work with this.” Dr Brewer’s words were soft and gentle as he tried to reassure his patient.

“So…what do you suggest I do?” David asked.

“Breathing is good. Big deep breaths, focusing on breathing in through your nose, holding it, then out through your mouth. Avoiding highly caffeinated drinks, alcohol or smoking can help some people. Regular exercise too, something not too strenuous like yoga perhaps?” David nodded his head as he listened to his doctor’s suggestions.

“So…I’m not dying?”

“No.” Dr Brewer chuckled sweetly. “You’re not dying. But here…” Patrick moved away from David and over to his desk where he pulled out a small business card. “I’m one of the doctors here that does call outs. This card has my number. If your symptoms worsen, call.” He paused just before he handed David the card. “Though if you _are_ actually having a heart attack, call an ambulance.”

David took the card, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “Thank you, Dr Brewer.”

“Patrick.”

“Thank you Patrick.”

David hopped off the hospital bed and walked back into the waiting room, not noticing that Dr Patrick Brewer watched him leave with a tender smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Absolutely not. Couples yoga? Couples?! There is no way that I am taking part in couple’s yoga. Absolutely not. No way.”

Two days.

It had been two days since the Heart Attack/Pulmonary Embolism That Is Really A Panic Attack started and it hadn’t gone away. His chest still felt tight, his heart still felt jumpy and breathing was just a pain in the ass.

Cutting out his caramel macchiato (the only good thing that Café Tropical had to offer) was not working for him and was making him even more stressed because it meant he wasn’t _caffeinated_ enough to deal with his mother and sister. Exercise didn’t help either. Alexis, though incredibly unsympathetic to his situation, was ‘kind’ enough to bring David end in a jog but that made David feel even more like he was actually having a full blown heart attack.

David felt awful.

So awful in fact that it was 3pm and David was still in bed, his bedsheet pulled all the way to his nose, his curtains shut to black out all possible daylight and his large white sunglasses perched on his face. Sleep was barely happening but he thought that being horizontal and shut off from the world might help.

A loud knock at the door made David jump and he lifted his head to glare at the noise that had disrupted the ‘aura of zen’ he was trying to create. The door swung open and in stepped Stevie, her hands instantly going to her hips and a loud sigh falling from her mouth as she looked at David.

“It’s 3.25pm, David. I have not seen you since Tuesday. Don’t you think this is a bit much, now?” She said, sounding mildly exasperated.

“I am day two into my panic attack and it is not going. I have tried everything….everything that I was willing to do, that the doctor suggested. I think I may die of a panic attack.” David flopped dramatically back down onto his bed and pulled the bedsheet fully over his head. He felt the bed dip beside him as Stevie sat down.

“Okay, you’re not dying. I heard that Twyla was holding a couple’s yoga session later this afternoon. The doctor suggested yoga, right? Why don’t you try?” Stevie tried to suggest helpfully.

David harrumphed loudly from under the sheets. “Absolutely not. Couples yoga? _Couples?!_ There is no way that I am taking part in couple’s yoga. Absolutely not. No way.”

“Suit yourself. Have fun with your panic attack, David!”

David heard Stevie leave with a firm shut of the door and only then did he pull the covers off of his face. He groaned and stared up at the ceiling, his chest still feeling tight. He turned his head to look at for his phone and on the corner of his nightstand, a small card caught his eye.

Dr Brewer gave him his card. He said to call if his symptoms got worse. Well…they weren’t worse, but they were still there after two days. Surely that’s grounds for a call?

Sighing to himself and with no one around to tell him not to, David picked up his phone and dialled the number.

Straight to voicemail.

“Hi, Dr David, it’s Brewer.” _Fuck. _“I mean Hi, Dr Brewer, this is David. David Rose. I uh…you gave me your card in case I had any issues with my panic attacks. So I’m sending you a text...” _fuck shit fuck_ “…calling you because I’m still panicking. Not panicking. Panic…attacking? I’m still having a panic attack. Basically. Starting to worry that it’s dangerous. Okay thanks. Ciao. Uh…mm.” David pressed End Call and slammed his phone onto his bed.

Well. That happened. He sent that voicemail to that person.

_Fuck. _

Whining loudly to himself, David threw the bedsheets over his face, succumbing to the fact that he was doomed to spend the rest of his life in the throes of a panic attack.

Ten minutes later, David’s phone began to chime. Without removing his bedsheet from his face, David stuck out his arm and reached for his phone, pulling it under the covers so he could see who was calling. Huh. An unknown number.

“Hello?”

“_Brewer! This is Dr David.” _

Fuck!

“Ha…sorry. About that.”

“_Don’t worry about it. Sorry I didn’t pick up, I was at a thing. But I’m glad you made good use of my card. So, you’re still having your panic attack? It’s been a while.” _

“Yeah. Yeah. Two days. I uh, don’t think that’s good for me. For my health. To be having this for so long.”

“_It can’t be pleasant for you. Listen, I’m doing house calls at the moment. I have another patient to see but if you’re really worried, I can swing by.” _

“Uh….” David pulled the sheets off his face and looked around the room. “You don’t need to come out this far. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry for calling you while you’re working.” He rushed.

“_David…David it’s fine. Honestly. I’ll be done with my next patient in about half an hour. Text your address to this number and I will be there when I can.” _

“Okay… thank you.”

_“No problem. See you soon, David. Ciao.” _

David could hear the smirk in his voice. That _bastard!_ After he hung up the phone, he texted the address to the doctor and then waited.

Dr Brewer was coming to the motel.

*

Just over an hour later, there was a light knock on the motel door. David threw the bedsheets off of him and sluggishly walked to open the door. In front of him stood Dr Brewer, clad in denim jeans, a light blue sweater and the ugliest effing _mountaineering _shoes. In his hand he held a bag, probably full of all of his little pokey doctor-y things.

“Dr Brewer, thanks again. You didn’t have to come.” David said quietly, holding the door open so the doctor could walk in.

“Please, call me Patrick. It’s really no bother. You really do live in a motel, huh?” Dr Brewer…_Patrick_ looked around the room, eyeing up the two beds. “And you share with your sister.”

“Mhm..you remembered.”

“Of course I did. Why don’t you take a seat, David.”

David nodded and sat down on the corner of his bed, watching as Patrick took a seat opposite him on Alexis’ bed. He put his bag down on the floor beside him and rummaged through it until his found his stethoscope. Patrick repeated the steps from their last meeting and then sat back down. “How are you feeling?” He asked gently.

“I’ve been having a panic attack for two days. How do you think I’m feeling?” He said quickly with a hint of anger in his voice. “Sorry. That came off way harsher than I intended. I just…I’m exhausted. I’m fed up. I don’t know what to do.”

Patrick nodded, giving David a reassuring smile. “I understand, David. I take it you tried the breathing?” David nodded slowly. “The exercise?” David grimaced. “Cutting out caffeine?” David shrugged guiltily.

“Okay, David. Why don’t you tell me about the exercise you tried?” Patrick said slowly, realising that maybe David hadn’t followed his advice at all.

David grimaced again. “My sister took me on a jog. Kind of made things worse. There was a big hill and we shouted at each other. There were many june bugs. It was a bad time for all involved.”

Patrick rocked his head down to try and hide his very amused smile from his patient. “Okay, David…”

“You say that a lot.”

“Okay, David. I think maybe jogging wasn’t the best route for you. Did you try yoga?”

“Uh. No. I’m not…It’s not really my thing?” David tried to argue. “My friend suggested a class that’s on this afternoon but I don’t want to.”

Patrick made a face. “It could help? I know it makes you uncomfortable and believe me, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable but David, you need to help yourself out here.” Patrick reached over and put his hand gently on David’s knee to give it a squeeze. “Maybe yoga will help. Maybe it won’t. But you aren’t going to find out by sitting here.”

David’s gaze dropped down to where Patrick’s hand squeezed his knee. _Huh. That…that’s nice. _He gulped slowly, then looked up at Patrick. “I’m not sure.”

Patrick took his hand away and looked at the watch on his wrist. “What time is this yoga class? I don’t have another house call until 7. I could come with you, for moral support.”

Eyes widening, David shook his head. “Oh no no no that’s fine. No. It’s uh. It’s a couple’s yoga thing. That could…that’s….it’s uh….” Patrick’s laugh interrupted David’s spiralling thoughts. “Couple’s yoga doesn’t mean…couple couples. It just means a pair of people. You do different exercises that you can’t do alone because you need a partner to do it. That’s it. I’ve done a few of these before and they’re really not that bad. We hold a weekly yoga session for some of our elderly patients at the Centre and a lot of that is pairs based. It’s honestly not what you think.”

David’s hands balled up into fists and his mouth twisted as he thought about it. Yoga. With Patrick. Patrick the _Doctor_. Patrick the Doctor who was unbelievably cute. “Okay. Fine. But if I don’t like it, I’m leaving.”

“Okay, David.”

*

Patrick apparently kept sweats in the trunk of his car (who the hell keeps sweats in the trunk of their car?!) and he had a white tee underneath his sweater so when David met him outside of Mutt’s barn after taking a cab, they were ready for yoga. Well…as ready as David could possibly be.

Twyla was simply overjoyed to see David at her yoga session and no sooner had they arrived, it was time to begin. Twyla started to pair everyone up and for a moment, David was relieved that he may not get paired with Dr Cute but Twyla, ever the helpful lady, left David and Patrick right until the end and paired them together.

Patrick gave David a eye-brow raised smile and got himself ready on the mat. “This won’t be as bad as you’re thinking, David.” He whispered to him.

David did not like yoga. Bending was hard. He wasn’t as flexible as he used to be when he was 24 (not that he was much older. Definitely not 10 years older) so he found the whole thing incredibly awkward. Patrick, ever the professional, carefully guided David through each move, pausing and making adjustments to suit David’s range of mobility. David tried his absolute best to avoid Patrick’s gaze because _goddam _he was so damn pretty and it was absolutely not pure to think about his doctor like this. Especially his so obviously straight doctor.

“Do you really need to be wearing the beanie hat?” Patrick said quietly as they say opposite each other, legs spread and arms gently pushing and pulling each other forwards and backwards.

“I haven’t washed my hair in days. So yes. Yes I need to be swearing the hat.” David stage whispered back.

The next move needed David to be in a downward dog position (ew) with Patrick pressing his hands into the small of David’s back. Twyla was spouting some nonsense about rolling his biceps but David didn’t know what that meant so he just sort of…hung there. “Just relax, David.” Patrick said softly as one of his hands rubbed up and down his back in soothing patterns.

Oh.

Okay.

David felt his eyes flutter closed and he focused on the feeling of Patrick’s hand on his back. His chest didn’t feel so tight all of a sudden. He took a deep breath, deeper than he had done in days, then pushed the breath out of his mouth, which he then repeated over and over.

“Good, David. You’re doing so well.” Patrick whispered down to him, rubbing firmer patterns into David’s back.

All too soon, Twyla’s voice broke David from his breathing as she explained their next pose. Patrick got into child’s pose and David had to lie across his back. _Okay, she’s definitely making this shit up now…_

Once settled on Patrick’s back, and after calming down the worry that he would crush the poor pocket-sized man, David spread out his arms above his head and tried to relax himself. After a few moments, he felt Patrick’s hand graze his and his thumb start to press firm circles in his palm. “This helps me sometimes. Gives me something to focus on.” He heard him say.

“Mm..” Was all David could respond with, letting his eyes fall closed again. “I’m pretty sure I’m really lonely here…” He heard himself say before he’d even thought about it. The firm circles on his palm never faltered. In fact, he felt his other hand be taken into Patrick’s and the familiar pressure against that palm too.

“Just breathe, David.”

David listened.

*

“So, how do you feel?” Patrick asked softly as he rolled up the yoga mat, giving David a small smile as he did so. David sat on the floor, his knees pulled up towards his chest as he watched Patrick. “Okay. I feel okay. I feel…nice. Thank you.

“Good. I’m glad this helped. I know it won’t have completely fixed everything but it’s a start.”

The pair walked out to Patrick’s car and David pulled out his phone to call a cab. “Absolute not. Let me drive you.”

“You’ve done enough, Dr Brewer.”

“I insist.”

So that’s how David found himself getting a ride home from the cutest doctor he had ever seen after a weirdly intimate yoga session. With his doctor. _Oh lord this is how pornos start. _

“Listen, David. This may not be my place so please stop me if you need to but have you considered seeing a therapist?” Patrick asked as he pulled up in front of the motel.

“Uh. I saw a few when I was still in New York. They were expensive as hell and kind of awful, I think. I’m not sure.”

“I know three therapists. All highly recommended, all with very fair payment plans. I’ve recommended them to patients before and it has been positive. Here…” Patrick reached for his bag and pulled out 3 cards, handing them to David. “If you want to, look them up. See if therapy is the right path for you. See if any of them are the right fit for you. Obviously there are more therapists out there but I know for sure that these three are not expensive as hell or kind of awful if therapy is something that you want to consider.”

David looked down at the three cards in his hand, then back to Patrick. He took a slow, shaky breath. “Do you really think I need therapy?” He asked softly.

“I think you’ve been through a lot. I think you’re going through a lot. I think this is a path that is open for you to take.” Patrick replied, equally as softly. “I can’t tell you what to do here, David. I’m just…giving you an option.”

David looked back down and the cards and nodded his head. “Thank you, Patrick. For all of this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad it helped. You still have my number if you need anything, but it’s nearly time for my last house call. I’ll…see you around?”

David nodded and climbed out of Patrick’s car. “Goodnight, Patrick.”

“Goodnight, David.”

David walked back to his room and flopped face down onto his bed as soon as he could, without even removing his hi-tops. He felt himself relax into the pillows. _When was the last time I slept? Mm. Sleep. _

David didn’t wake until late into the afternoon the following day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't live in US/Canada so I don't know how things like therapy work here so pls forgive me if it doesn't make sense!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ew!” David exclaimed, batting Stevie’s arm away so she would stop scratching. “We need to go to the hospital.”

David had been seeing Yvonne twice a week for the last 3 months. He had taken a while to decide whether therapy was something he was ready to try again and then another while to decide which therapist felt right. He hadn’t done that with previous therapists. He just looked for the most expensive one because that probably meant they were the best. Yvonne was kind. She was patient. She listened to him when he vented. She challenged his negative thoughts in a safe and constructive way. She made him feel comfortable. David only had few sessions with Yvonne before he realised that his panic attack had gone. Having a safe space to talk through everything, to get his feelings off of his chest, just having someone to talk to was something that David didn’t realise he completely needed. It allowed him to open up conversations with his family about how he was feeling which he found was bringing them closer. He also attended a few more of Twyla’s couple’s yoga sessions, without a partner this time, where he was usually paired with Jocelyn (and one time Ray but he didn’t want to think about that). He started spending more time with Stevie. And next week, he even had an interview at the Blouse Barn in Elmdale. David felt…happy? If was different type of happy he felt from when he in New York but still, he was happy. David also felt like it was time to drop his sessions with Yvonne down to just once a week.

“Hey loser, what are you doing this weekend?” Stevie said as David walked into the lobby of the motel.

“Ah, a kind greeting. Nothing, why?” David lent up against the counter, resting his hand on his palm as he looked at his friend.

“I have a Groupon for a spa in Elmdale. I was planning on taking someone else but they’ve bailed and you’re literally my only other friend so…” Stevie had opened up the spa website and turned her computer monitor to face David so he could see the spa.

“I resent being your back up. Will there be treatments? If there are treatments, I will go.”

*

Elmdale spa was….quaint. It wasn’t like any spa he had been too before but it was okay. David was working on ‘trying to connect with the environment he is in’ as Yvonne had put it. Putting the positives before the negatives. It was kind of working? He didn’t think this place was a hole so that was something.

They checked into their room (two queen beds, he could work with this) and then headed down to get receive their treatments that were included in the Groupon. Feeling far more relaxed after his clay body scrub and scalp massage, David returned to their room for a nap while Stevie went for a walk in the gardens.

David was just getting into a wonderful dream of soft gentle hands and blue when he was shaken awake by a panicked Stevie. “I think I was allergic to something in the clay body scrub.” Her voice was far shriller than usual, so David groaned and sat up. “What?”

“Look!” Stevie untied her robe to show David what she was on about. Her arms were red. Angry red. And very blotchy. One her Stevie’s hands came to her arm and the scratched her angry red blotchy arms.

“Ew!” David exclaimed, batting Stevie’s arm away so she would stop scratching. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“No duh!” She quickly tied up her robe and put on her sneakers. David fumbled around for his sweatpants and Stevie’s keys. “There’s no way I’m letting you drive.”

David drove the pair of them to the closest doctors, Elmdale Medical Centre and got Stevie signed in. He spent most of the time waiting pulling Stevie’s arms away from her body so she would stop clawing at her skin. Their wait was far shorter than the last time they were here.

“Stevie Budd, Dr Brewer is ready for you.” A nurse called out.

Dr Brewer.

David froze. Patrick. He gulped heavily. David hadn’t thought about Patrick really in weeks. He’d been focusing on himself. But now, he was about to be reunited with the very cute man that helped him overcome his panic attack. “I’ll uh, I’ll come in with you.” David said, helping Stevie to her feet.

“If you are going to flirt with him and prevent him from giving me my deserved medical attention, I swear…” Stevie started, letting David lead her towards Dr Brewer’s office.

“Stevie! I’m not going to flirt with him. Jesus. This is the last time I’ll ever tell you when I meet someone who I think is cute.” David hissed.

“Kay but you went to _couples _yoga with him and he rubbed you.”

“He did not rub me!”

“Twyla told me he rubbed you and you liked it.”

“Stevie!” David gave Stevie a stern look before they walked into Dr Brewer’s office where he was sat at his desk. When he heard his door open, he stood up and smiled towards his patient. He then _blink-and-you’ll-miss-_it froze when he saw David but recovered himself, turning his attention back to Stevie. “Miss Budd. I hear you’ve had a nasty reaction. Please uh…make yourself comfortable on the bed and maybe drop your robe so I can take a closer look.” Dr Brewer pulled the privacy curtain around the bed so Stevie could change behind it.

David stood by the door uncomfortably and watched Stevie moved behind the privacy curtain. Patrick gathered a few things from draw beside his desk and then his eyes finally met David. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“It’s good to see you, Mr Rose. You look…you seem like you’re in a better headspace.”

David nodded his head and twisted one of the silver rings on his right hand. “I am, thank you for noticing.” Patrick gave David a smile before slipping behind the privacy curtain so he could take a look at Stevie.

While this was happening, David took a moment to look around the room. It was a small doctor’s office with not too many personal touches. There was a photo-frame on the desk which was probably of Patrick’s wife…but he wasn’t wearing a ring on his left hand so many his girlfriend? David tip-toed towards the desk to get a closer look at the bulky silver frame frame (ew), seeing a picture of two older people who looked very much like Patrick, their arms around the man who was wearing his graduation get it. Huh. Maybe he just didn’t have a girlfriend. Behind the desk, affixed to the wall was a another fugly silver frame but inside was Patrick’s medical licence.

_Cute, but the man has zero decorating skills, poor thing._

David sat himself down on the chair by the door, still twiddling his ring. After a few minutes, the privacy curtain ruffled and Patrick stepped out, leaving Stevie to re-dress herself. He quickly tapped a few keys on his computer and collected the paper that churned out of his printer, which he put down at the edge of the desk.

“I uh…I’m seeing a therapist.” David said quietly but quickly, his eyes trained down towards his ring, listening to Patrick shuffle around the room. “It’s helping.”

“That’s great to hear, David. I’m glad you found the right path.”

David opened his mouth to say something else but Stevie chose that moment to fully pull back the privacy curtain, which prompted Patrick to start talking about steroid cream and ointment and antihistamines and David was kind of uninterested in that.

“So her skin isn’t going to just, blister and peel all the way off?” David asked curiously, which made Patrick chuckle.

“Uh, no David. Your girlfriend is going to be just fine.”

David and Stevie both made a noise and took their heads vigorously.

“Oh no he’s not - ”

“Oh God no, we’re not –“

“It was one time and it’s so far in the past –“

“We’re definitely not – “

“We’re not a thing!”

Patrick watched the two of them with a mildly embarrassed but amused expression on his face. “I apologise. I just assumed…. Never mind.” Patrick cleared his throat and picked up the paper he had printed and handed it to Stevie. “Take this to the pharmacy and they can have it ready for you in 10 minutes.”

“Awesome...I just need the ladies room. I’ll be back in two.” Stevie smirked at David and waggled her eyebrows at him as she left, causing David to glare at her. 

“I apologise, again, for assuming that you and Stevie…” Patrick began once the door was closed.

“It’s okay. We’re just friends. I’m not into gir….that’s a lie, I am. I like girls. But I like guys too. I like…all of the people” David finished pathetically, silently cursing himself for sounding so stupid.

“You honestly don’t need to explain, David.” Patrick mumbled, running a hand over his rounded jaw. “I’m really glad you’re feeling better, David.”

David looked at Patrick with a smile. “Thanks. Thank _you._ I really appreciate the help.”

“It’s my job, David.”

“No, I know that. I just… I’m not used to it. The help. People being nice. It’s all new. I’m working through things with Yvonne and I’m learning that people can actually be nice without wanting to take something from me.”

Patrick nodded, making little ‘mm’ noises to show he was listening. “I’m glad you’re out of an environment that sounds like it wasn’t great for you.” He reached over and clasped his hand over David’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

David sucked in a breath, feeling the warmth of Patrick’s hand seep through his sweater. _Oh._ “It was really good seeing you again.” Patrick added, moving away from David to remove and replace the paper on top of the hospital bed.

“Mm..yup. It was good seeing you too.” David said softly.

Stevie came back into the room with a smile and picked up her bag. “Thanks again, Dr Brewer.”

“Anytime.”

David and Stevie left the doctor’s office and walked towards the pharmacy that was attached to the building. “You were right. He is _super_ cute. And _super_ into you.”

“Stevie!” David hissed, handing over the paper to the lady behind the pharmacy counter, who quickly set about collecting all the medicines.

“He didn’t give _me_ his call out card. I have a rash all over my body, I’m having an actual allergic reaction that could potentially get worse over time and need more medical attention, but I didn’t get his call out card. You did. I like this for you.”

David flopped down onto one of the chairs beside the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. “He is not into me, Stevie. Will you stop?!”

“You seem flustered.”

“Maybe it’s the thought of spending a minute longer in this contagious infestation ridden hell hole.”

*

David’s phone chimed at 10.34pm that evening.

Stevie was asleep in the next bed over, her both slathered in various creams and ointments meant to ease her rash. David was finding it a tad difficult to sleep. The room was a bit too stuffy and he couldn’t get a certain young doctor out of his mind.

Rolling over, David picked up his phone and looked at his one unread message from a number he didn’t have saved in his phone.

**10.34: Saw this and thought of you. Stevie said you were a ‘yogi’ now. Maybe you should check it out.   
\- Patrick.**

David’s heart quickened in his chest as he read the words. Patrick! He opened up the attachment but that had to stifle his laugh. Patrick had sent him a picture of an extreme ‘hot’ yoga class in Elm Valley. It looked like the stuff of nightmares.

Patrick, as it turns out, was an absolute troll.

**10.36: You are evil. **David replied quickly.

A few minutes later, his phone pinged again. And again,

**10.39: *devil emoji* Get some sleep, David.**

**10.40: Doctor’s orders.**

David gulped. Oh. Oh no. He was _definitely_ into Patrick.

** 10.42: Okay. Goodnight. **

**10.50: Goodnight, David. x**

Trying his absolute best not to overthink the ‘x’ at the end of Patrick’s text because it was _clearly_ a typo, David rolled over and tried his best to go to sleep, his eventual dreams filled with various shades of blue and soft shoulder touches.

** **


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s a Julia Stiles-athon at the drive in tomorrow. I was going to take my mom but it’s their wedding anniversary so she can’t make it. Do you…Do you like Julia Stiles?”

David’s interview at the Blouse Barn went better than he expected it to. Wendy, the poor lady who owned the shop, was in desperate need of a creative take over (she just didn’t know it yet) and David was more than happy to work his magic. He enjoyed working there. ‘Enjoyed’ was a strong word but David liked the routine, he liked having a creative outlet, he even liked poor Wendy. He’d been working there for 3 weeks now and David could already see his create input scattered around the store.

It was a Wednesday and Wendy was out at lunch, leaving David in charge of the store. Things had quietened down after a mid-morning rush and David was happy for a quiet for a little while. That was until the bell above the door dinged and David heard hushed voices. He looked up from where he was sat behind his desk scrolling through Instagram and his eyes widened.

There, standing by the shelf of meticulously folded sweaters was Patrick Brewer himself standing next to an older woman with similar coloured hair.

_Shit. _

He hadn’t heard from Patrick since that night at the spa when Patrick had ended his text with a ‘x’. Patrick had texted twice more since then (**Have a good day, David x / I’m leading the senior yoga class at the Centre tonight. Won’t be as fun as barn yoga. x) ** but David was in such a freak out over what it meant, particularly the ‘x’ part, he hadn’t found the strength to reply to them. Maybe he could duck out in the back and pretend that no one was working today. David climbed off his stool and tried to make a break for it.

“David? David Rose?” He heard a soft voice say before he could even slink away from behind the counter. Squeezing his eyes shut and mouthing ‘fuck’, David turned around, plastering a surprised look on his face.

“Oh! Dr Brewer! Hi.”

“I didn’t realise you worked here.” Patrick left the woman by the sweaters and moved closer to the counter, resting his palms on the hard surface. David quickly folded his arms across his body.

“Oh, yeah. Mhm. I started a few weeks ago.”

“It looks different…does it have anything to do with you?” Patrick pointed out as he looked around the shop at the various monochrome decorations. “It’s nice.”

“Mhm. I convinced Wendy to let me fix it because it was an assault to the senses to just step foot in here.”

Patrick dipped his head and let out a laugh, then looked up to meet David’s gaze. “Well it looks great. You have a good eye for design.” David felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment and he mouthed the word ‘thanks’.

“Listen, David…I want to apologise.” Patrick started. “I think maybe I was out of line texting you. And I think that made you uncomfortable. It was wildly unprofessional. You’re my patient and I owe you an apology.”

David’s eyes widened and his hands slowly dropped from his text down to the counter. “What? You don’t…it wasn’t…I’m not…. “ He stumbled over his words. “It wasn’t unprofessional. I just…I didn’t know what to reply. Also I’m not your patient anymore.”

“Oh.” Patrick breathed.

“Patrick, dear! Do you think your dad will like this sweater?” A voice called from behind them, causing them to break their gaze from each other. Patrick smiled apologetically, then went back to the woman, talking to her about the choices of sweater.

David let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding and clenched his fists. _Dammit. _

After a few minutes, Patrick and the woman walked over the counter and placed a sweater on top of it. “David, this is my mom, Marcy.” Patrick said, his arm around the woman. Marcy grinned at David. “This is wonderful store, David.”

“Oh. It’s not mine but thank you.” David scanned the sweater and processed the payment. The happy smiles plastered on Marcy and Patrick’s faces as they watched him was not unnoticed by David.

“Thank you for shopping at the Blouse Barn.” David said routinely.

“Mom, I’ll meet you in the café. Save us a table?”

“Of course, my sweet boy.” Marcy pressed a soft kiss to Patrick’s cheek, waved goodbye to David and then left, leaving Patrick and David alone in the store.

“David –“

“Patrick – “ They began at the same time, causing the both of them to laugh shyly. “You first.” David whispered.

“There’s a Julia Stiles-athon at the drive in tomorrow. I was going to take my mom but it’s their wedding anniversary so she can’t make it. Do you…Do you like Julia Stiles?”

David’s breath hitched. _Was Patrick asking him out?_ “I like Julia Stiles.”

“Would you maybe like to go? With me? Or maybe you just want the tickets and you can choose someone to go with.” Patrick rambled. _Oh. He’s…he’s nervous. _

“Yes.” David answered breathlessly. “I…I’ll go. With you. So long as you don’t mind my commentary because I have a lot of opinions on Julia Stiles movies.”

The doctor let out a little laugh and ran his had over his short hair. “I don’t doubt that. I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow, is that okay?”

“That’s okay…I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, David.”

Patrick walked towards the door, turning back to flash David the most beautiful smile he had ever seen before leaving. David scrunched up his face, fisted his hands and threw his head back. Patrick had asked him out. Patrick, the very, very cute doctor asked him out on a _date! _

Oh shit.

David was going on a date.

*

True to his word, at 5.58, there was a quiet knock on the motel room door. Alexis had been her usual over the top self when helping David prepare for his date (not that David had asked for help, Alexis has insisted he needed it) and when she heard the knock, she let out a small squeal. “Okay, David. Don’t fuck it up. He’s a _doctor._” She said, pushing him towards the door.

“Okay you need to stop now.” He was nervous enough, he didn’t need Alexis giving him pep talks. “Go away.”

Another knock came from the door. “Answer it, you idiot! He won’t wait forever.” Alexis called.

“Mmm, eat glass!” He shot back, moving towards the door, picking up his bag on the way. He pulled open the door, his face softening as he looked at Patrick who stood on the doorstep, holding a striped bucket of popcorn.

“Hi,” He said breathlessly. Patrick looked _good. _He always looked good but David definitely appreciated the dark button down he had chosen. It provided a wonderful contrast to the all white (with dark patches on his sweater) ensemble that David had picked out. Patrick leaded in and pressed a polite kiss to David’s cheek which made him blush. “Hi, David.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Alexis called, grinning as she waggled her fingers as a wave. David glared at her, then pulled the door closed behind him, joining Patrick outside.

“Sorry about her…” David mumbled as they walked towards Patrick’s car. “She doesn’t know when to shut up.”

Patrick chuckled, holding the door open for David to sit in the passenger seat. “Don’t apologise, she’s funny.”

“Mm. Don’t tell her that. She doesn’t need her ego stroked.” David slid into the car, accepting the bucket of popcorn from Patrick. Their drive was filled with comfortable, easy conversation with Patrick talking about his small town upbringing with his parents. “I came out to them last year.” He said quietly as they pulled into the drive in. “I was with someone for years. A girl, Rachel. It just…it never felt right, no matter how hard I tried with her and I never really understood why until after I broke things off with her. My parents have been great. Really supportive. I know that’s not the same for a lot of others so I know how lucky I got.”

David had his eyes trained on Patrick’s soft features as he spoke, feeling his heart swell with each passing moment. “Your parents sound lovely. I know I already met your mom but…yeah. She’s lovely.” David trailed off.

Patrick got them parked up and tuned in his radio to the right frequency. “You have the popcorn and in the back, I packed a bag of other snacks. I wasn’t sure what you liked so I brought a selection. I had a feeling you had sweet tooth.”

“Mm, you would be correct.”

Just liked he warned, David commented on a lot of things during the movie. At one point, he worried that he was being incredibly annoying but the tender looks and sweet laughs Patrick gave him reassured him that maybe he wasn’t being _too_ annoying.

The popcorn was based in front of the hand break in between the two of them. David reached down into the bucket to reach one of the few remaining kernels but his fingers brushed against something else. He looked over and saw Patrick’s hand, millimetres away from his own. Before David could apologise, Patrick pulled out the bucket of popcorn and gently took David’s hand on his own. His thumb brushed against one of his rings, then another one. David felt his heart constrict in his chest.

“Is this okay?” Patrick whispered, looking into David’s eyes for any sign of unwillingness.

“Yes.” He whispered. Nobody had ever asked if it was okay before. Before, people would just grab him and manhandle him and do things to him without ever stopping to ask if this was okay. But Patrick…Patrick was different.

Patrick held his hand throughout most of the rest of the film, his thumb alternating between pressing firm circles in his palm to running over his fingers to trace his rings. David could barely concentrate on the cinematic masterpiece that was Julia Stiles and Heath Ledger, he could only think about Patrick’s soft hands and the way it made his heart flutter and his breath hitch.

Once the movie was over, Patrick, ever the gentleman, drove David home. He pulled up outside the motel and killed the engine.

“I’m really glad you came with me tonight, David.” Patrick said softly in the darkness of his car.

“Well, I couldn’t let you waste your money.” David replied, making Patrick chuckle and shake his head.

“ ‘I’m glad I came too, Patrick because I had such a wonderful time with you’.” Patrick retorted.

“Mm…a bold claim.”

Their eyes met. Patrick’s eyes lowered to David’s lips, then back up to meet David’s gaze.

_I’m going to do it. _

Leading forward, David placed a gentle hand on Patrick’s cheek and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly on Patrick’s. David felt the other man’s breath hitch and a hand place firmly on his waist. After a few seconds, a tiny noise escaped Patrick’s mouth and he deepens the kiss, his tongue tentatively licking to David’s willing mouth. After a few moments, David finds the strength to gently pull back, not missing Patrick’s whimper of disapproval. They both sat back into their chairs, breathing slightly heavier than usual.

“Thank you, David…” Patrick whispers.

“For what?” David replied, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

“For making that happen for us. I was worried I was gonna let you leave here without us having done that.”

“Well, I’m a very generous person.”

“I know I’m out and I’m proud but…I’ve never…done that. With a guy.” Patrick said slowly. “There’s just never been anyone I’ve connected with. And there’s never been time to meet anyone. So…thank you, David.”

David placed a hand on Patrick’s knee and squeezed, smiling wider when he felt Patrick’s hand drop to rest on top of his. “Well I’m glad I could do this for us.”

“Can we talk tomorrow?” Patrick asked gently.

“Mhm. We can talk whenever you’d like. Though preferably not before 10am. I’m not really a morning person.” Patrick laughed, accepting one last short kiss from David, before David climbed out of the car.

“Goodnight, David.” He called.

David dipped down through the open door. “Goodnight, Patrick.”

*

The next morning, David woke to a text.

**10.01am: Good morning. Thank you for a wonderful evening. X**  
  
David grinned and held his phone tightly to his chest.

This time, he didn’t overthink the ‘x’.


End file.
